la danse et l’intervention passionnée

there was no deity in her toes

or mystical magic,

brazen eccentricity,

alcohol infused depravity

clung like smoke

that became exhausted on breath,

the morbid look of reality

as being human is to dance

bare splayed white thigh flesh

promise of midnight feast

fulgent in face

he wished to grasp her now

be away upon a tram

tearing worsted tights

patched with careful hand

lamplit ombres chinoises

concavity of upturned behind

receiving wild attention,

she has him as a pale

pierrot languishing on soft words

and gentle caress

having seen the kaleidoscope

and been within pink basket

away with shallow shadows

to find his way home,

naked on sheets tugged and messed

alone

internal orchestra played on

stood upon her rug

once vibrant

and danced again

for herself this time,

watched only by flickering

wax candles

toulouse lautrec

gardens in a candlelit room

i take a hammer

and a nail

to my brother and sister eye,

one gazing south

to shared sand of desert and sea,

other north

through motorcycle lens

to fields of open pleasure,

my visceral concern

is not getting lost between both,

naked to contradiction

my form is seen

bare paleness of a wanting moon

sand still tasted between teeth,

without movement and sound

to the board of memory

each eye nailed

swiftly

so there is no gelatinous collapse

blinking obscura of pain,

i now want

flesh cold

still pale

not written upon by her lips,

hammer has fallen

indenting ground

taking root

Andrew Wyeth Man and the Moon